Some Dream By Day
by remuslives23
Summary: "Those who dream by night in the dusty recesses of their minds wake in the day to find that it was vanity; but the dreamers of the day are dangerous men, for they may act out their dreams with open eyes, to make it possible." - TE Lawrence.
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** Some Dream By Day  
**Author:** **remuslives23**  
**Rating:** Hard R/Low NC17  
**Contains:** Sexual Content, Strong Language (including derogatory terms), Infidelity, Physical and Emotional Abuse, Discussion of Addictions, Smoking  
**Word Count:** 10696  
**Summary:** "Those who dream by night in the dusty recesses of their minds wake in the day to find that it was vanity; but the dreamers of the day are dangerous men, for they may act out their dreams with open eyes, to make it possible." - TE Lawrence.  
**Notes:** Non-magic AU written for the **rs_games**. Thank you to **dogsunderfoot** for her sharp eye and encouragement. I chose to look to the entire song for inspiration rather than just the chorus. You can find the full lyrics here.  
**Prompt:** _23) Oh, take this longing from my tongue, Whatever useless things these hands have done, Let me see your beauty broken down, Like you would do for one you love_

* * *

Fingers scrabbled against the wall, nails scratching lines in the already flaking paint, and tiny chips flecking the stained, smelly carpet like dandruff. Noise from the street trickled into the room through the loose window that rattled with even the lightest breeze, underscoring the dull repetitive thud as flesh slapped against flesh in an unmistakable beat. Low moans of illicit pleasure and raspy respiration mingled to create the rhythm for the men's encounter, the duet of bit back cries and drawn out groans signaling the crescendo before they stuttered into silence.

Hitching breaths gradually evened out then came the susurrus sound of fabric sliding over skin as clothing that had been hastily shoved aside was tugged back into place. Hair was smoothed, skin examined for tell tale marks, clothes checked for stains that could give them away. Then, with the quick, awkward farewell of two strangers who aren't quite sure how they found themselves in this situation, they parted, with no intention of ever seeing each other again.

o0o

"What do you think of the dress, darling?"

Sirius Black looked up from his newspaper, surprised by the unusual endearment, and, with a great effort, smiled. "That is... just lovely," he told his bride-to-be, swallowing back his immediate horror at her armful of frilly, flouncy fabric. "You'll look beautiful."

"It's not for me," she chided, stroking a hand over the lurid pink material. "It's for the bridesmaids."

"Well, they'll look beautiful then," he said, giving the fabric a final disbelieving glance before he met the vexed green eyes of his fiancée.

"But will they look better than me?" she fretted, clearly waiting for Sirius to offer reassurance.

Sirius sighed and obediently gave her another wide smile. "No one will look better than you," he told her. "You're the bride – no one is allowed to look more beautiful than the bride."

"You're supposed to say that it's not possible for anyone to look more beautiful than your bride," a hard voice admonished.

Sirius looked at the dark-haired woman at the other end of the dining table then turned back to his fiancée and said robotically, "It is not possible for anyone to look more beautiful than you, Amy."

Amy raised an eyebrow and gave him a sly smile before planting a dutiful kiss on his cheek. As she hurried from the room, Sirius wiped his cheek and grimaced at the spit and lipstick smeared across his hand before glaring at his mother.

"Your manners need polishing, Sirius," she said, eyes on the social pages of the paper as she sipped at the tea in her bone-china cup.

Sirius ignored her, folding his newspaper and pushing himself to his feet. As he turned to leave the room, his mother said in a deceptively calm voice, "Where were you last night?"

Sirius froze, ensuring his face was perfectly blank before he spun on his heel to face her. "I told you I was going out," he said blandly.

"Amy's father told me you'd turned down their invitation to dinner," Walburga Black said, her cold grey eyes immobilising her son as effectively as a steel trap. "What exactly did you need to do that was more important than forging a personal relationship with the parents of your fiancée?"

Sirius' lips curled a little in disgust. "Just about anything else would have been more palatable than spending the evening with Amy and her parents," he retorted, raising his chin defiantly. "This marriage doesn't require any personal involvement beyond me looking good on Amy's arm at the next dinner party, and us providing the requisite heir and spare for our social-climbing, money-hungry families."

The very expensive tea cup clattered onto the saucer hard enough to crack the fine china, and his mother stood stiffly. "You will apologise to Mr and Mrs Rockinghurst for your rudeness," she demanded, holding her head high as she moved towards him, "and you will arrange to have dinner with them another evening."

"I won't apologise for not wanting to be bored to death by people who talk simply to hear their own voices," Sirius said petulantly. "It would be different if what they were saying was remotely intelligent..."

Her hand shot out so quickly Sirius didn't register seeing it until his head snapped to the side and he felt the sting across his cheek. He tasted the metallic tang of blood on his tongue and swallowed before he turned back to face his mother's wrath.

"You will keep your ignorant opinions to yourself if you value your place in this family," Walburga hissed, her eyes – so much like Sirius' own – flashing in anger. "Thanks to your father's weakness, we need this match. You will fulfill your duty as a Black heir, and you will ensure the continuing financial and social security of this family. You will be charming and polite with the Rockinghursts at all times, and you will graciously do what is expected of you in order to bring our families together."

"For the good of everyone?" Sirius said hoarsely, his jaw clenched tight with resentment and anger.

"Yes," his mother said, and Sirius let out a sharp bark of laughter.

"And what about me?" he snapped, furious at the increasingly familiar feeling of hopelessness that welled inside him. "What about what's good for me?"

"Most young men would be grateful for lifelong financial security, flawless social standing, and a beautiful wife," Walburga retorted, staring at him with ill-disguised disgust. "What more could you possibly want, Sirius?"

She brushed past him with a sweep of expensive fabric, and Sirius sank into his chair. "Yeah," he muttered to himself. "What more could I want?"

o0o

Neither was sure if their second meeting outside the tube was fate's intervention or whether one or both of them had willed it to happen, but neither cared to question it as they tumbled onto a bed in the nearest hotel. Sirius tongued a pink nipple as his fingers slid inside an eager body, muscles flexing and squeezing, and when he buried himself in that slick heat, his mind whited out with the intense pleasure of touching-tasting-smelling _male_all around him. Throaty moans and low masculine growls urged him on and, as he came with a force that ripped the breath from his lungs, he howled in rarely felt exhilaration.

Afterwards, they shared a cigarette on the way back to the subway, and Sirius watched him leave – guitar case in hand - after casually mentioning his intention to catch the train around the same time the next day.

o0o

Remus Lupin plucked a chord on his guitar then nodded before he picked up a pencil and scribbled down the next notes in the melody he'd been working on. Throwing the pencil back down on the paper-strewn bed, he strummed the first few completed bars of the song, and smiled.

'"That's the one," he murmured, repositioning his fingers to begin again.

"I wish you'd spend as much time looking for work as you do mucking about on that thing," came a disapproving voice.

Remus sighed quietly and forced a smile onto his face. "Hi, Joe," he said, shifting his guitar off his lap. "I didn't hear you come home."

"Your mother was calling you for dinner," Joe Curry said, his gaze roaming around Remus' shabby bedroom. 'Did you go out at all today?"

"I did," Remus said wearily, pushing himself to his feet and rummaging through his coat pocket. He pulled out a handful of rumpled bank notes and held them out to his stepfather. "I did some busking. This should cover my share of the rent this week."

Joe took the cash and shoved it into his trouser pocket after a careful count. "Busking?" he sneered, shaking his head. "You're twenty-one years old. Isn't it about time you got a real job?"

"I'm paying my way," Remus objected, irritated by the old argument. "Why do you care where the money comes from?"

Joe snorted and glared at him, but Remus was unaffected; his step-father's approval something he had long since given up on. "Tell mum I'll be down after I wash up," he said, turning his back on the other man. "And I told her I'd be giving you money for board tonight so see that she gets it rather than it going to the slapper on the corner, yeah?"

Joe scowled, but didn't bother to deny the accusation, watching as Remus carefully moved his guitar to its case. "You know, you'll never get a bird if you keep up with this fairy folk singer rubbish."

"Women like musicians, don't they?"

"They like a man who can put food on the table more."

Remus peered over his shoulder and looked the other man up and down, taking in the shabby clothes, the too-long hair, and the eau du whiskey cologne. "They like _you_well enough."

Joe's lip curled. "You're a little shit, Remus," he spat. "I'm only letting you stay on because your mum can't see what a bastard you are. The second you miss paying your weekly board, you're out of here."

"Yeah," Remus muttered, breathing a resigned sigh as Joe left him alone. "And I can't wait."

o0o

Remus sank to his knees, sliding his hands along the strong, quivering thighs before him before leaning in and lashing his tongue over the hot skin. A groan and a not-subtle tilt of hips made Remus' cock throb, and he wasted no time, trailing his tongue along skin peppered with fine hair until he reached a thick thatch of wiry curls. He buried his face in the nest, silky skin wrapped around steel stroking his cheek as he breathed in deep. The scent of musk and salt tickled his nostrils, and his tongue snuck out to taste the tantalising perfume that was overwhelming his every sense.

"Please," came the hoarse whisper from above, and Remus smiled before he took the thick erection deep into the wet warmth of his mouth.

He was surprised by the goodbye kiss – their first – as he opened the door of his friend's borrowed bedsit, but sank into it, tasting smoke and come and the salt from his own skin. They left with a tentative time and date for their fourth meeting, and a little voice inside each of their heads screaming, 'What the hell are you doing?"

o0o

"And this?"

Sirius stifled his sigh and took the antique pocket watch from his father's hands. He'd grown up in this store, spent his life learning everything there was to know about the business he couldn't wait to take over; a business that might be snatched out from under him.

"John Arnold timepiece, circa late 1700's," he answered, sliding the pad of his thumb over the curve of the watch that had been passed down through the Black family, that had been willed to the eldest son of each generation on the occasion of his wedding. It was beautiful and had been a constant throughout Black history. When he was younger and less jaded, Sirius imagined that, by just holding it, the love and happiness it had absorbed in the past would be transferred to him.

It had been a lovely fantasy.

"Good." Orion Black nodded in approval and retrieved the watch. He stared at it for a few seconds then returned it to it's velvet covered box with trembling hands that were a sure sign that his morning tipple of scotch was overdue. Sirius clenched his jaw, resisting the urge to rail and rant at the other man for his weaknesses, for allowing his addictions to fast money and booze to ruin what had been one of the most respected names in the antique business.

Not to mention forcing Sirius into a joyless sham of a marriage.

"How... how are the wedding plans coming along?" Orion asked, stumbling over his words as a thin sheen of sweat beaded on his brow. "You're making a fine match there."

Sirius shook his head. "You know I don't want this," he said resentfully, not bothering with any pretense. "You know I don't love her."

Orion let out a sharp bark of laughter, turning away to place the pocket watch in the wall safe. "Love," he said scornfully, "is a ridiculous notion poets and musicians utilise to sell their work to similarly minded fools. You've no need for love when you have power and status, Sirius."

He looked over his shoulder, narrowing his eyes at his son. "And the Rockinghursts have power and status. You will not ruin your mother's accomplishment in securing this match by sprouting fanciful nonsense about love."

Sirius bit his lip then blurted out, "I don't _like_women."

His father stilled for a long moment then closed the safe, replacing the painting in front of it before he turned back to Sirius. "Then be discreet when you take your lovers," he said, voice like steel as his eyes burned into Sirius. "This is not a game, Sirius. You hold the future of your family, your children's future, in your hands. I don't care what you need to do, what you need to imagine, in order to perform your duties as a husband, but you will do it because the Black legacy must continue. You will marry the Rockinghurst girl, you will do whatever you need to do in order to provide an heir, and you will be very, very careful about anyone else you allow into your bed. Have I made myself clear?"

Sirius didn't know why he'd expected anything less. "Crystal," he ground out before turning on his heel and stalking from the room.

o0o

Remus' fingers clenched in the sheets as, with a final brutal thrust, he came with enough force to wrench a cry from his tightly closed lips. He collapsed onto the hot, sweaty body below him, panting hard as shuddering aftershocks juddered through him. The ring of muscles surrounding his spent cock contracted and rippled around him until he couldn't take the tiny jags of pleasure-pain any longer. He let himself slide from its embrace as his parted lips dragged over damp skin, tongue tracing the protruding curve of a shoulder blade, teeth closing gently over the knob of vertebrae at the nape, tongue lapping over lust-flushed flesh.

This was their fourth meeting. This time, they'd had longer in which to make new discoveries – a ticklish spot on an inside thigh, a hiss and gasp as teeth scraped over a clavicle – as well as revisiting familiar spots that had already been thoroughly explored.

They lay together now, naked and soaked with sweat and saliva and come, and stared at the smoke-stained ceiling of the cheap, rent-by-the-hour hotel room.

"One offs aren't supposed to happen more than once, right?" Remus asked, his voice still hoarse from the earlier begging and pleading as his body was worshiped by a talented tongue.

"Yeah."

Remus swallowed hard to coat his raw throat. "So... what's this then?"

Long fingers tangled with his own, curling around his hand and squeezing lightly. Sirius met Remus' gaze and held it as he rolled onto his side and pressed their lips together. "An affair," he whispered before dragging his lips over Remus' throat. "A cheap and tawdry affair."

Remus tilted his head back, sighed softly when Sirius lapped at the hollow at the base of his throat. "Should we stop? Not see each other again? Can't imagine your _fiancée_would be best pleased about this."

Sirius' hand trailed lazily along Remus' thigh as his breath teased a nipple. "Yes," he answered on an exhale before taking the hardening bud between his lips. "We should stop."

Remus lost track of the conversation for a moment as spikes of renewed want streaked through him then, when Sirius let his nipple slide out of his mouth, he gasped out, "Will we?"

With an abrupt twist of his body, Sirius moved to straddle Remus. Bracing his hands on Remus' chest, he sat up and rocked his hips. Remus groaned as their sticky cocks rubbed together, the coarse friction sending a jolt of electricity up his spine.

"No," Sirius said, softly, but firmly, his grey eyes staring at Remus, _into_Remus. "No, we aren't going to stop."

He leaned over and kissed any forming objections from Remus' lips. "Play for me?" he whispered into Remus' mouth. He pulled back and leaned over the edge of the bed to grasp the neck of the guitar Remus was never without. "Something you wrote yourself."

"How do you know I write?"

Sirius smiled. "I can see it in your eyes," he said, holding out the instrument. "You look like all your dreams have come true when you play and I know you'd want to share them, to share how happy you are, with the world." His smile waned. "I don't think I have that. Something I'm so passionate about that I want to shout it from the rooftops. I envy you that feeling."

Remus smiled up at him. "I've heard the way you talk about your family business," he argued. "You love all that old stuff."

"_Antiques_," Sirius stressed, looking pained by Remus' off-hand description. "Beautifully preserved relics of the past, infused with memories of love and laughter."

Remus considered Sirius for a moment then sat up and pulled the guitar into his lap to rest on the tops of Sirius' thighs. "One day, we'll run away together. I'll write you a song," he whispered, almost to himself, "and we can make some of those happy memories together."

Sirius smiled crookedly and pressed his lips against Remus' damp hair. "I'd really like that."

o0o

Remus crouched beside his open guitar case, scooping the coins within into a calico bag as his guitar bumped against his back. "Not bad," he said under his breath. He folded the few notes he'd earned and shoved them straight into his jacket pocket before he straightened and swung his guitar around to rest against his hip, slipping the pick out from under the strings. Another train would be coming into the station soon, and he hoped the rush hour crowd was feeling generous on this Friday evening.

He plucked experimentally at the strings, the low twang bringing a flash of memory that made him smile: playing naked in bed, watching Sirius lazily stroking himself back to hardness as he hummed along with Remus' random rhythm. A frown of concentration furrowed Remus' brow as he spontaneously tried out a new combination of chords, a song of want and need and love coming together almost effortlessly as the six-ten train pulled in and the passengers disembarked. Coins jangled into the guitar case, but Remus didn't notice, lost inside the song of Sirius until he felt the prickle of awareness that had drawn him to the other man on that very first day in this same exact spot.

Remus looked up and saw the stationary man in the sea of movement. He smiled.

o0o

"I love your hands." Sirius traced the curve of the life line that streaked across Remus' palm then rubbed at a callous before threading their fingers together. "Strong, and not soft. And your fingers are so _long_, so good for _probing_..."

Remus snorted out his amusement and indolently smacked Sirius over the head with his free hand. "Musician's hands," he said, staring at their joined hands. "Useless, my step-father says. Not good enough to earn a 'proper, manly living'."

Sirius laughed at the nasal Cockney twang Remus adopted for his quoted words and raised their hands to his mouth. "I love them," he mumbled, brushing a kiss over a healing cut on Remus' knuckle. "Don't listen to him."

Remus cast a pointed look at Sirius, who rolled his eyes as he sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the rumpled bed. "Go on then," he said with a sigh. "Say it."

"Say what?"

"That I'm a dirty great hypocrite for telling you not to listen to your stepfather when I'm doing exactly what my mummy and daddy tell me and signing my life away to that harpy so they can get better seats at the opera?"

"You don't think you're being a little over-dramatic?"

Sirius glared indignantly at Remus. "They expect me to marry that daft blonde twit and, not content with me simply pretending to be enraptured by my new wife, they expect me to actually fuck her and produce offspring. I don't think I'm being overly dramatic at all!"

"No," Remus murmured. "Not at all." He stretched, watching Sirius' arse as he bent over to pick up his pants. "So don't marry her."

"I have to."

"Why?"

"It's complicated..." Sirius pulled up his trousers. "I... You wouldn't understand."

Remus sat up, the sheets pooling around his hips. "You're right," he said darkly. "I don't understand how you can allow your family to push you around when you're so opposed to this, how you can let them make decisions about your future and you just accept it."

Sirius twisted around to glare at Remus. "You don't get it," he snapped, yanking his shirt over his head. "Without this marriage, my family will lose everything. The business, my inheritance, my mother's precious social standing which, to be honest, I couldn't give a crap about..."

"So, you're selling your happiness, your heart, for cold, hard cash?" Remus asked, adding acerbically, "What does a soul go for these days?"

Sirius clenched his jaw tight, his eyes flashing hot and furious. "You don't have a clue what you are talking about. Who are you to criticise, anyway? You want to sing, to write, to be _someone_, but you're still singing on an underground train platform that smells like piss and vomit."

He snatched up his shoes and socks, and grabbed his jacket. With one last hard glare at a livid Remus, he ground out, "When you're done judging me, give me a call."

"I would," Remus called after him angrily, "but you've never bothered to give this dirty little secret your phone number!"

The only response was the slamming of the door.

o0o

"That is unacceptable," Rufus Rockinghurst boomed, stabbing a sausage-like finger at Walburga Black. "Amy's inheritance and trust funds will remain her own, separate to the joint marital assets."

"We are willing to provide for Amy and any children out of Sirius' trust fund..." Walburga countered coolly, colour rising in her cheeks when Rufus laughed scornfully.

"From what I hear, if we refuse to allow this marriage, Sirius' trust fund will soon be nothing more than empty liquor bottles and betting slips," he said with a self-satisfied smirk,

Sirius tried to hide his wince, but realised he hadn't been successful when his mother glared daggers at him before forcing a smile at the pompous Rufus. "You know better than to listen to rumour, Rufus," she said disdainfully, waving a pale, crimson-nailed hand at the financial documents littering the desk. "The business is going through a slow turn right now, but Sirius has some marvelous marketing plans ready to put into place once he takes over."

"The only reason I've allowed this arrangement is because Orion's father was friends with mine, and his good name deserves a chance to regain its former standing," Rufus said cuttingly. "_Sirius_had damn well better know what he's doing."

"I do," Sirius snapped then flinched as his mother's pointed heel came down on his foot under the table.

"Sirius learned the business at his father's knee,' Walburga said, but Rufus snorted and reached for a cigar.

"That's not exactly a shining reference," he said before striking a match. "I'd like to install a manager to keep an eye on him. Someone I trust to know what they are doing."

Sirius felt his chest constrict, lungs working harder and harder with each inhalation. As his mother and future father-in-law argued over his future, Sirius felt the little control he had over his life slipping away.

_It's always going to be like this. I'm constantly going to have to prove myself. Remus was right – how can I allow this?_

His hand shook as he reached for his glass of red wine, downing the contents in one gulp before reaching for the bottle. He missed Remus. It had been almost two weeks since they'd parted so acrimoniously, and Sirius had missed him every minute. It was a lonely ache that pervaded every part of him, and he longed to see Remus' smile, to touch his skin, to taste him and feel him inside of him. He couldn't do this without Remus.

"Sirius!"

He jolted back to awareness, his wine spilling like blood over his hand. "Pardon?" he asked, remembering his manners just in time to avoid further angering his mother.

"That is your third glass," she said, through obviously gritted teeth. "I think you have had enough, don't you?"

Before he could agree or disagree, Rufus added, "Someone with your family history should abstain from alcohol altogether." He smiled condescendingly. "Your name doesn't need for any more mud to stick, does it?"

Sirius stared at him for a long moment then stood abruptly. "I have to go."

"Sirius..."

"Where do you think...?"

"Out!" Sirius shouted as he almost ran from the room.

He couldn't recall how he'd gotten to the Tube, but felt the tension drain from his body the moment he heard Remus' Manchester lilt caressing the beautifully crafted lyrics of an original piece he'd once played for Sirius. He stood back and listened, letting the words wash soothingly over his jangling nerves, then waited until the gathered crowd dispersed before approaching Remus uncertainly. Remus was bent over his guitar case, but looked up at the sound of Sirius' footsteps. His half-formed smile faded into a look of wary expectation, as he straightened.

"Hello, Sirius," he said gruffly, and Sirius's breath juddered from between his lips at the sound of his name falling from those lips.

"Remus... God," he whispered, a spark of hope flaring when he saw the concern that flickered across Remus' face. "I need you. I..." His courage was failing, and he wasn't ashamed to beg. "Please?"

Remus eyed him cautiously then quickly packed up his guitar, snapping the case shut. He jerked his head towards the exit. "Come on then," he said grudgingly, letting Sirius chase him as he strode away from the platform.

o0o

The door had barely shut behind them when Sirius slammed Remus into the wall, hands frantic and lips needy. His teeth closed around Remus' lower lip, the sharp tang of blood coating his taste buds before Remus fought back, shoving Sirius roughly up against the door.

"Fucker," he hissed, hands making short work of Sirius' fly. His fingers pushed inside Sirius' underwear, jerking his already hard cock roughly. Sirius' head fell back, cracking painfully against the wood. His knees weakened, but Remus pinned him to the door with a hand on his chest as he bit his mark into Sirius' neck.

"Two weeks," he growled into Sirius' skin as he rutted furiously against Sirius' hip. "You stayed away for _two fucking weeks_."

"I'm sorry," Sirius gasped out, clutching at Remus' jacket and twisting the fabric in his fist as his orgasm began to unfurl at the base of his spine. "Missed you so much."

Remus dove in and kissed him, an angry clash of teeth and vicious tongue thrusts, and Sirius shouted out his almost painfully intense release, letting himself drown in all he'd been craving so desperately. Remus cried out a moment later, his hand squeezing tight around Sirius' still-pulsing shaft as he rocked through his orgasm.

They slumped together, breath hot and moist on each other's skin. Sirius turned his head, brushing his lips tentatively over the sensitive spot behind Remus' ear. Remus' breathing hitched, and Sirius smiled, the feeling of hopelessness that had plagued him since leaving his house lifting.

"Missed you too," Remus muttered, and Sirius tightened his grip on the other man.

"I wish I was brave enough to just walk away," he whispered, combing his fingers through the curling ends of Remus' hair. "I wish I could be brave and just leave like you talk about doing."

Remus sighed and lifted his head. "A man with nothing has nothing to lose, Sirius," he said soberly, cupping Sirius' face with his clean hand. "I have no right to tell you how to live your life."

"You do," Sirius protested. "You have..."

Remus shook his head, sliding his sticky hand from Sirius' pants. "I'm the bit on the side, Sirius," he said, self-mockingly. "I don't get any rights."

"That's not what you are," Sirius insisted fervently, grabbing the front of Remus' shirt and dragging him against his chest. "You are _everything_to me."

Remus gave Sirius a heartbreakingly tender kiss then extricated himself gently. "No, I'm not," he said regretfully. 'If I was, you wouldn't have had anything to apologise for."

o0o

"He just wants the best for you, Remus," Ellen Lupin sighed, pleading with her weary blue eyes for Remus to understand. "He gets... frustrated when you talk back to him like you did."

Remus let the packet of frozen peas fall from his face, taking a perverse pleasure in watching his mother's face crumple with guilt and despair. "He's a prick," he said dully, tossing the peas into the sink then turning to grab his coat from the back of the kitchen chair. "He's a prick and a drunk and I'm sick of you making excuses for him."

"Don't talk about your father like that!"

"He's not my father!" Remus yelled, anger surging and burning through his body like fire. "Don't you _dare_ call that bastard my father. My father would never spend the food money on booze, he would never be late for your birthday dinner because he was having it off with the whore down the street, and he would never, _ever_lay a hand on me."

She was sobbing now, streams of tears and snot wetting her face as she clutched desperately at his shirt. Remus looked down at her and wondered when she became so small, so pathetic. "He's worried about you," she insisted, sniffing loudly and staring imploringly up at him. "He thinks you're throwing your life away. He just doesn't know how to express his concern."

"Oh, I think he got his point across," Remus snarled, tilting his head so she couldn't miss the bruise that was swelling his cheek and blackening his eye. "He's not worried about me, mum. He's pissed off because I didn't make enough money to cover board this week."

"Remus, you need to find a proper job," she said, her hands fluttering nervously between his cheek and his hair. "You need to give up on this dream of earning money playing music and find some real work. Everything will be alright if you..."

He scowled and grabbed her wrists, pulling her hands away from him. "Dad used to tell me to follow my dreams," he snapped, brushing roughly past her as he headed for the door.

"Dreams are for the wealthy, Remus," she said from the doorway, watching him hesitate on the front stoop. "We ordinary folk can't afford to have them."

The last threads of respect he held for her snapped as she cast the final vestiges of his father's kind-hearted optimism to the wind. He glared balefully at her over his shoulder then slammed the front door behind him.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

**Title:** Some Dream By Day  
**Author:** **remuslives23**  
**Rating:** Hard R/Low NC17  
**Contains:** Sexual Content, Strong Language (including derogatory terms), Infidelity, Physical and Emotional Abuse, Discussion of Addictions, Smoking  
**Summary:** "Those who dream by night in the dusty recesses of their minds wake in the day to find that it was vanity; but the dreamers of the day are dangerous men, for they may act out their dreams with open eyes, to make it possible." - TE Lawrence.  
**Notes:** Non-magic AU written for the **rs_games**. Thank you to **dogsunderfoot** for her sharp eye and encouragement. I chose to look to the entire song for inspiration rather than just the chorus. You can find the full lyrics here.  
**Prompt:** _23) Oh, take this longing from my tongue, Whatever useless things these hands have done, Let me see your beauty broken down, Like you would do for one you love_

* * *

Remus was sitting side on to the door when Sirius arrived, naked to the waist and sucking the guts out of a cigarette. Sirius took a moment to trace the angles and lines of his lean body with his eyes, smiling at the hair curling over the back of his neck, at the jut of a shoulder blade, at the fading bruise that bore testament to Sirius' need to _taste_. Longing twisted sharp in his stomach as he remembered the explosion of salt and soap on his tongue, and he had to swallow hard against the words of love and devotion that threatened to choke him, that he had no right to say.

He crawled across the bed, shedding his jacket and t-shirt before he licked his way up Remus' knobbly spine. "Hey," he mumbled against Remus' nape, knowing that the vibration of his voice tickled the sensitive skin.

Remus snorted out a laugh, making Sirius' heart leap joyfully in his chest. "Hey," he replied, taking a final drag on the cigarette then stubbing it out in a saucer on the side table. "You're late."

"Sorry," Sirius whispered then closed his lips over the mark on Remus' shoulder and sucked, blood rushing to the surface to freshen the bruise.

Remus abruptly jerked his shoulder away, Sirius' lips pulling off with an audible pop. "Got enough fucking bruises today without you adding to them," Remus grumbled, and Sirius frowned.

"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked, rising to his knees and sliding his arms around Remus' chest. He propped his chin on Remus' shoulder and finally saw the ugly bruising that had closed Remus' eye. "Holy shit! What the fuck happened to you?"

"My dick of a step-father happened to me," Remus seethed, snatching up a pack of smokes and shaking another one out.

Sirius cupped the unhurt side of Remus' face and turned his head gently. Remus sighed and went with the pressure, gaze darting around the room to avoid looking at Sirius. "Fuck," Sirius cursed vehemently, ghosting the pad of his thumb over Remus' cheek and wincing when Remus flinched. "Why...?"

"Because he's a vicious bastard who knows I'll put up with it because I can't afford to move any-fucking-where else yet," Remus snapped, rearing back and reaching for a lighter. "My dad... He is _nothing_like my dad was. My dad would never have let her tell me to give up on my dreams. Why the hell is she putting up with this? Why is she...? "

_...letting him take the only thing I've got left away from me._

Remus shook his head and tried to light the cigarette, his fingers made clumsy by the tremors that shook him. Sirius put his hand over the lighter, tugging it from Remus' grasp and tossing it on the floor. He did the same with the cigarette then eased a suddenly pliant Remus to the bed, straddling his hips and staring down at him.

"I want to hurt him," he said harshly, dipping his head to press his lips gently to the swollen flesh below Remus' eye. "I want to hurt him like he hurt you."

Remus shuddered underneath him, fisting the sheets as Sirius' tongue lathed the abused skin. "Don't want anything to ever hurt you," Sirius said, breath washing over Remus' skin as he shifted to mouth at Remus' collar bone. "You're mine."

Remus arched up, his back curving gracefully as Sirius' tongue danced across his belly. Sure hands made short work of Remus' fly, his nose nudging the leaking cock from its cotton confines as he murmured, "You're my dream."

"You'll hurt me," Remus whispered, his head falling back as Sirius rubbed the slit with the tip of his tongue. "You'll get married and be too busy fucking your wife to see me."

"No," Sirius breathed, kissing the knob of Remus' hip. "Always want this, want you. I want to run away with you. I want to always be with you. You're _my_dream, Remus."

He slid his mouth over Remus' cock, loving the stretch of his lips, the weight on his tongue. He was so engrossed in the taste and smell and feel of Remus that he almost missed his mournful reply...

"Everyone wakes up eventually."

o0o

Sirius fidgeted by the counter, wanting to be anywhere but here watching Amy coo over their matching wedding bands. He checked his watch; he was meeting Remus after these wedding errands were finished and was counting down the minutes. He heard Amy fall into raptures over the size of the diamonds in her ring and her excited squeals speared through Sirius' head like daggers.

"Christ," he muttered under his breath. He turned away from her, an intense headache blindsiding him. He put a hand on a glass display case to steady himself, blinking rapidly to try and clear his clouded vision.

"Are you alright, Sirius?"

Sirius plastered a smile on his face and looked back over his shoulder at her. "Fine," he said, hoping he sounded convincing. "Headache."

"Would you like some water, sir?" the clerk asked, scooting off to a back room when Sirius nodded an affirmative.

"Aren't they beautiful?" Amy enthused, waving the rings under Sirius' nose.

"Lovely," he agreed absently, trying to avoid her flailing hand.

She stilled and looked at him with narrowed eyes. "You could be a bit more cheerful," she said, snappishly. "These are our wedding rings. You'll be wearing one of these for the rest of your life."

Sirius turned away before she could see his horrified expression. The rest of his life... _Oh, God._A glass of water, glistening with condensation, appeared before his eyes, and he accepted it gratefully.

"Nerves are very common, sir," the clerk said helpfully. "Chamomile tea will help."

"Thanks," mumbled Sirius, taking a long drink from the glass as the clerk bounced back to Amy.

Sirius held the cool glass against his heated cheek, concentrating on keeping his breathing even. For the rest of his life. Amy laughed loudly at something the clerk said, and Sirius cringed. He was going to be spending the rest of his life with Amy's high-pitched fake laugh.

_It's forever. It's... a long time. It's normal to be completely freaked out by that._

So why, when he thought about spending his entire existence listening to the low, musical chuckle that came right from Remus' heart, was he filled with contentment instead of fear?

He thought about what Remus had said the last time they were together. _"Everyone wakes up eventually."_Remus had it the wrong way around, Sirius thought. When he was with Remus, that was real. This... He glanced at Amy who was now covetously eyeing a pair of pearl earrings. This was the dream he wanted to wake up from.

o0o

They didn't fall into bed right away. Remus counted his morning takings, his mind obviously elsewhere, while Sirius hung his fresh-from-the-tailor suit on the wardrobe door. He undressed, letting his expensive trousers and shirt drop unceremoniously to the floor, and took great pains to step on them as he headed for the bathroom. He pissed then washed up, splashing cool water on his face.

"Got smokes?" Remus called, thumping about in the other room. "I've run out."

'In my jacket," he called back, staring at his dripping face in the grimy mirror. Dark circles under his eyes stained his skin, and he was tired, exhausted from trying to reconcile his two lives. This cheap and nasty hotel room was his oasis, his place of peace, and Remus, his lifeline. More and more frequently, he dreamed of running away, of him and Remus living in a flat of their own, Remus playing his guitar naked while he composed, and Sirius doing something useful – bar work, labouring, anything – to feed them until Remus made it big; then he'd open his own antiquity store. It would be so simple with just the two of them.

_Romantic fantasies. In real life, we'd be freezing, starving, and too tired and pissed off to fuck._

But still, the fantasy lingered.

He scrubbed his face dry with the threadbare towel provided then stepped out into the bedroom. Remus was sitting on the edge of the bed, cigarettes in one hand, a red velvet box in the other. He looked up when Sirius came closer, and smiled grimly.

"They're nice."

Sirius sat beside him, throat going dry and heart pounding in renewed panic and resentment at one more reminder of his other life inserting itself into this one, into his time with Remus which was so very rare and precious. "Put them away," he mumbled, but Remus slid one of the rings – his – out of the box. He jammed his finger into it then held it away from his body in a tragic parody of what Amy had done just hours earlier.

"It's too big," Remus complained, letting it slide off his finger into his cupped hand. "Ah, doesn't suit me anyway."

"I don't want to do this," Sirius whispered, his voice a hoarse whisper.

"Then don't."

Sirius closed his eyes. He wished it were that easy. A hand touched his, and Sirius welcomed the warm touch, then something cold and constrictive slid over his finger. His eyes opened and he wanted to cry at the sight of the ring curled perfectly around his finger. It was a mockery. His hands - hands that had stroked Remus' skin, that had been inside him, that _belonged_to Remus - stamped with a sign of ownership by another.

"It looks good on you," Remus said, harshly before he pushed himself to his feet. Sirius' hand shot out, grasping Remus' arm and pulling him back down to the bed.

"Don't," he begged, wrapping his arms tightly around Remus and burying his face in his neck. He trembled, fear overwhelming him at the thought of losing this, of losing his anchor. "Please, don't."

"I didn't think you'd actually... Christ, you're really doing it,' Remus said, his voice cracking. "You're really fucking doing this."

Sirius' hands shook as he tried to wriggle the ring off his finger while keeping his arms firmly locked around Remus. He finally wrangled it off, and immediately, he felt like he could breathe once again. He tossed the gold band towards his clothes, not caring where it landed and pressed his lips to Remus' skin. "I don't want to," he said, pleading with Remus to understand. "You know I don't want to."

"Then come away with me."

Remus' voice was low and urgent in a way he'd never heard before, and Sirius, shock reverberating through him, pulled back far enough to see Remus' face. "What?"

Remus stared at him, determination the only discernible emotion in his blue eyes. 'I'm leaving," he told Sirius. "I've saved enough money to get out of here, and I'm going as soon as I can."

"Why?"

"Because I can't stand this anymore," Remus said, rubbing at his nose in agitation. '"You... you are the only good thing in my life, Sirius, and you're..." He exhaled – short and sharp – and shook his head. "I've got to go. Get away from this place."

"Wh... where will you go?" Sirius stammered, fear making his tongue stumble over the words. "What about this? Us?"

Remus' eyes narrowed, and he shoved Sirius off him. "I'll go wherever I want," he said as he stood, running a hand through sandy-brown hair. "And I've just asked you to come with me."

"I... want to, but..." Sirius grabbed Remus' hands. "I have commitments. My family, the business, need me..."

"_I_need you."

Sirius bit his lip, feeling as though his heart was being ripped wide open. "I can't go. Stay with me."

Remus' face hardened. "I can't." He pulled his hands from Sirius', grabbed his coat and his guitar case, and headed for the door.

"Remus!"

He turned in the doorway, face etched in sorrow. "What about us?" Sirius asked again, voice breaking so badly he could barely understand his own words.

"There is no 'us'," Remus said sadly, eyes shining a bit too bright. "There never really was, was there?"

And then, he was gone, and it was the taste of salt on his lips that made Sirius aware of the tears dripping down his cheeks.

o0o

Remus stuffed the last of his clothes in his rucksack and looked around the room. His sweeping gaze stuttered over a framed picture of himself as a toddler with his parents. He considered it for a moment then zipped the rucksack shut and slung it over his shoulder.

A car door slammed at the front of the house, and Remus swore. A quick look told him that his mother and Joe were back early from their lunch time session at the pub, and he hesitated, wondering if he should wait until later to make his exit. If he walked out now, there might be a scene with his mother. Or, even worse, she might not care at all. She might be glad to see the back of him, and Remus wasn't sure he could lose Sirius and the fragile remains of his relationship with his mother all in one day.

"Bugger it," he said eventually, tightening his grip on the strap of his bag. He made it to the bedroom door then turned back, quickly taking the photograph out of the frame and shoving it into the pocket of his jeans.

Joe didn't bother looking up when he walked into the living room, but his mother did. She had a tentative smile on her face that faded when she caught sight of the rucksack. When her eyes met Remus', he saw a combination of sadness and understanding. She nodded, glancing at Joe, then inclined her head towards the kitchen. She brushed past Remus, but, as he turned to follow, Joe finally noticed him.

"Where do you think you're going?"

Remus sighed then looked back at the older man. "I'm leaving," he said heavily, cursing up a silent blue streak when Joe frowned and struggled to his feet.

"You're just deserting your mother?" Joe slurred, swaying a little as he glared at Remus through heavily lidded eyes. "Always said you were a selfish bastard."

"Piss off," Remus snapped, turning to leave the room.

"Little faggot," Joe taunted, and Remus whirled around.

"Yes," he hissed. "I am." He smiled a triumphant smile and held up his hands. "You were right. These _are_the hands of a fairy." He wriggled his fingers tauntingly. "I've been told they're very good for probing..."

He ducked as Joe seized a lamp and threw it at him, a shard of pottery nicking his cheek as it bounced off the wall behind him. Ellen ran back into the room and screamed, "Stop!"

Remus straightened, glaring at Joe who, to his surprise, backed down. Ellen turned to Remus and shoved something at him. "Take it and go," she urged, as Remus' hands automatically came up to take what she'd handed him. She raised herself to the tips of her toes and kissed Remus' cheek. "Call me when you're settled, or if you need anything."

Frowning, Remus nodded, and Ellen patted his cheek. "I love you, Remus," she whispered. "I always will, but you're doing the right thing. You've always been brave - just like your father."

She let her hand slide down to his chest and gave him a little push. Remus nodded and mouthed, "I love you," before he left his childhood home for the last time, a fistful of cash clutched in his hand.

He paid for a room in his and Sirius' usual hotel and dumped his stuff in the middle of the floor before flopping onto the bed with a sigh. He was really doing this. He was really leaving. Turning his head to the side, he stared at the empty space beside him, a space Sirius usually filled, his light, summer-scented aftershave underscoring the sharp perfume of their combined sweat and come.

Remus swallowed hard, rolling over and burying his head in the pillow, pretending he could still smell Sirius there. Was he really doing the right thing? He could stay here, find a bedsit, and he and Sirius could...

He sat up as nausea burned in his gut. Sirius was getting married in just a few days. Although they could easily continue this, it wouldn't be long until Remus was pushed aside for family functions, births, anniversaries... all the responsibilities married life brought. And Remus would be stuck in a crappy flat waiting for Sirius to make some time for him.

As much as he loved Sirius – and he _did_love him – he wasn't prepared to stay in this godforsaken place waiting for the knock at the door.

But he wasn't ready to let Sirius go without giving him every chance to change his mind.

o0o

Sirius slipped inside the hotel room, almost tripping over Remus' rucksack. He stared at it for a long moment then looked at Remus with a devastated expression. "Remus..."

"I'm leaving in a few days," he said without preamble as he stared up at the ceiling, unable to meet Sirius' eye. He blindly tossed a packet of cigarettes to Sirius who caught them awkwardly. "Smoke?"

Sirius shook his head, dropping the carton on the dresser before walking slowly across the room. "You can't go," he pleaded, sinking to the edge of the bed beside Remus' sprawled figure. "Don't leave me."

He slid his hand into Remus' and Remus closed his eyes against the sting of tears. "I'm not leaving you," he said, twining their fingers. "I'm leaving town. It's your decision as to whether I leave alone."

Sirius was silent, and Remus, with a sudden swell of hope, peered at him through his eyelashes. Sirius was gnawing at his lower lip, tears pooling at the corners of his eyes. "Come with me," Remus breathed, sitting up abruptly. He caught Sirius' face in his palms and forced the other man to look him in the eye. "We could have this all the time." He punctuated each point with a kiss to Sirius' face. "Be together every night, wake up together every morning, never have to rush through a fuck because we've got to be somewhere else..."

Sirius turned his head, Remus' final kiss falling on his lips. Their mouths moved slowly together, the kiss tasting of desperation and longing. Remus pushed Sirius down onto the mattress, propping himself up over him as the kiss deepened.

Clothes were slowly peeled away and every inch of skin lashed with lips and tongue. Their bodies undulated in a practiced dance, limbs stretching and elongated, backs arching in an elegant curve. When Sirius whispered, "Fuck me slow," Remus obliged, breaching him inch by torturous inch in short, shallow thrusts. He set a leisurely pace, dipping his head with every push to kiss Sirius. When Sirius began to chant his name, his fingers bruising Remus' hips, Remus added a twist that made his cock bump against Sirius' prostate.

He brought Sirius, and himself, right up to the edge and back again and again until he thought he'd go mad from the ebb and flow. Sirius dragged his fingers through Remus' sweat-damp hair, pulling him down for a deep, breathless kiss. His cock slid between their slick stomachs and, the friction too much now, Sirius came long and hard, sobbing out Remus' name as his muscles clamped down.

Remus cried out then pressed his face into Sirius' throat, teeth scraping over his pulse point as he rocked through an orgasm that felt too much like a goodbye.

"Can I stay tonight?" asked Sirius a few minutes later.

Remus rolled onto his side, head on Sirius' shoulder. "Yeah," he said despondently, realising this was Sirius' attempt to hold on to him, to keep Remus with him for as long as he could. "I'd like that."

The next morning, dressed and coiffed, Sirius hesitated in the doorway. "Remus, please..."

"I'm leaving in two days," Remus said firmly, slapping a band aid on his breaking heart because he'd rather die than let Sirius see how fucking much this hurt. "I'm going to be in town until seven o'clock Saturday night."

Sirius looked stricken. "An hour after the wedding ceremony," he said faintly.

Remus lifted his chin, hooking his thumbs into his belt loops. "I'm going to be at the platform where we met until then," he said, "and if you're not there when the seven o'clock train gets in, I'll take that to mean goodbye."

"Can't..." Sirius' eyes darted away as his voice failed him. He cleared his throat. "Can't you wait and see if we can work this out?"

Remus cocked an eyebrow. "You want to have your cake and eat me, too?" he asked sarcastically.

"It's not like that," Sirius protested.

"It's _exactly_like that," Remus retorted, his resolve to stay calm and cool snapping like a twig. "You are happy for me to give up my dream of getting out of here, of making a go of it somewhere as a songwriter so you can keep getting your dick sucked, but you aren't prepared to give up a damn thing for me."

Sirius opened his mouth then closed it. He shut his eyes as if gathering strength then nodded. "You're right," he said quietly. "You're right. But I'm in too deep. I don't think I can get out of this without too many people getting hurt. The stakes are too high now."

He touched his fingertips to Remus' chest, just over his heart, silently asking Remus to understand, but Remus stepped back, out of his reach. "Well, this way, only I get hurt," he said grimly, then turned his back on Sirius.

He was nearly in the bathroom when he heard Sirius say, "I love you."

His already broken heart shattered into a million pieces, but somehow he found the strength to reply, "And I love you. But it's not enough, is it?"

Then he closed the bathroom door behind him before Sirius could answer.

o0o

The door slammed shut behind Sirius and he paused in his relentless pacing. "Isn't it meant to be bad luck," he said, smiling weakly at Amy who was resplendent in her ivory lace gown, "to see the bride before the wedding?"

"It's also bad luck to have the groom's face look like a slapped arse in the society page photographs," she retorted, crossing her arms over her chest. "What is wrong with you?"

Sirius gazed at her for a long moment, seriously considering telling her the truth. It'd be a relief, really. To be able to stop pretending and admit that his heart was catching a train out of town today.

"Nothing is wrong," he said finally, turning away to tie his cravat. "I'm just nervous."

"Look," she said, stalking up to him and poking a finger at his chest. "I think it's time for some honesty, don't you?"

Sirius blinked, confused, as she continued, her voice hard and a granite in her green eyes that looked oddly familiar, but that he couldn't quite place. "Neither of us are making a love match here, but we can help each other out. I want your name because, despite your father's exploits over the last few years, he hasn't undone all the hard work your grandparents did. And, once I'm your wife, I'll take over the business and build it back up into an empire to be envied."

"The business is mine," Sirius objected sharply, and she looked at him askance.

"Didn't you pay attention at all during the pre-nup negotiations?" she asked patronisingly. "The business becomes ours when we wed. And, if you ever find the balls to try and leave me for whoever it is you've been fucking lately, it'll become mine outright."

She smiled triumphantly as Sirius' face drained of colour. "Your mother must have been desperate to get her social standing back to agree to that condition."

Suddenly, Sirius knew why that calculating, uncompromising glint in her eye seemed a little off. It was because he usually saw it in his mother's eyes.

"So, I'm going to finish dressing, we're going to get through this ceremony, and then, we can get on with our lives," she said carelessly, heading for the door. "Oh, and I don't care who you've got in your bed as long as you don't give me anything or humiliate me by getting caught with your pants down."

Sirius sat down heavily on the bed as she let herself out. He had agreed to this marriage in order to save his family name, to save the business his grandfather had built, but the business wouldn't even belong to his family anymore, would never be _his_, unless he remained trapped in a marriage to a woman exactly like his mother. Forever.

He remembered his father's shaking hands as he tested Sirius on his antiquity knowledge. His life had driven him to drink, had forced him to take pleasure outside his marriage, had made him agree to hand over his legacy to strangers in order to please a social-climbing wife.

_That's going to be me. In twenty years, I'll be as broken and pathetic as my father._

"Sirius?" He glanced at the open door and saw his father's red-rimmed eyes peering at him quizzically. "We need to leave for the church now."

Sirius stood without thinking and gave him a curt nod, buying himself some time by checking his appearance in the mirror before easing his jacket off the hanger. "Dad," he asked quietly as he pulled the coat on. "What would you do? If you were me?"

He turned and looked at his father's stony face. "I'd do exactly what I did do twenty-two years ago," he said testily. "I'd put what the family needed first."

"And if you had another option?"

Orion took a step forward into the room. "There _are_no other options," he hissed. "If you don't make this match, our name will be worth nothing. It will destroy us."

"And if this deal destroys me?"

Orion narrowed his eyes, hesitating for what felt like an eternity before answering. "The car will be leaving in ten minutes. Don't keep us all waiting."

His words hit Sirius like a blow from a hammer and, off balance, he took a step back. Orion threw him a warning glare then left the room, closing the door softly behind him. Sirius put out a hand, groping desperately for the bed, for support. His fingers grazed the mattress and he stumbled back, sinking down on the bed and burying his face in his hands. His father knew about the deal. His father was throwing Sirius to the wolves to save what he had lost, to save his name. His father knew exactly how this felt – to be forced into a marriage with someone he didn't love – and he expected Sirius to go ahead with it anyway.

He began to shake, fury boiling inside him. He was _not_going to be their sacrifice. If he walked away, he would be saying goodbye to his dreams of running the family business, but if he didn't... He thought of Remus and turned his wrist to look at his watch. It wasn't too late, but, while his family would be no loss, was he really going to be able to walk away from the opportunity he'd been waiting for since he was old enough to talk?

He was going to give up one dream for another today. He just had to decide which one he couldn't live without.

o0o

Remus leaned against the wall, watching as people shouldered their way in and out of the train. He knocked the heel of his sand shoe against the ground and checked his watch again. Two minutes later than the last time he checked. Against his will, his eyes shifted to the entrance, darting from face to face before Remus berated himself for clinging so desperately to one last scrap of hope and tore his gaze away.

His head kept telling him not to be a fool, that there was no way Sirius would give up a certain, well-financed future to run away with a broke busker, but his foolish heart leaped every time a dark head appeared in the crowd.

_Seven o'clock, Lupin. Not a second longer. He's had enough time._

He splayed his fingers against the wall and let his head fall back. This spot – this very spot – was where he and Sirius had met. He had been singing – a Leonard Cohen mix, he recalled – and Sirius had sat on the bench opposite for nearly an hour before he approached, dropping a twenty pound note in Remus' case. They'd talked for several minutes, attraction bubbling between them immediately, then Sirius asked if he could buy Remus a drink. Remus asked if drink was a euphemism and told Sirius he wasn't a whore, but he'd fuck him for free. Then Sirius had smiled that glorious smile and Remus was utterly captivated.

Their hands had been wrapped around each other's cocks fifteen minutes later.

Remus sighed and glanced down at his wristwatch. His stomach twisted painfully as time ticked over, and the lingering hope faded.

"Time to wake up now," he whispered as the seven o'clock train pulled up to the platform.

He heaved his rucksack over his shoulder, picked up his guitar case, and headed for the opening door, pushing his way through a gap in the assembled throng. The bag containing his entire life fell with a thump beside his feet as he settled into a seat opposite the door. Remus braced the guitar case between his spread thighs and determinedly averted his gaze, refusing to watch the door close on any chance of a future with Sirius.

The train took off with a lurch and Remus' stomach churned. He shut his eyes as someone jostled his shoulder, hiding the hot tears that prickled insistently behind his closed eye lids. His fingers clenched around the strap of his guitar case as he fought back the urge to leap from the moving train.

_This is what I need to do for me. Bugger Sirius fucking Black._

He inhaled deeply then slowly let the breath go. "This is the right thing to do," he muttered to himself then his eyes snapped open as warm air wafted over his ear and a low, husky – _God, so very familiar_- voice murmured, "Yes it is."

Remus stared at the other man, eyes hungrily devouring the sight of the man for whom he'd fallen so hard. "Is it you?" he whispered tremulously, the pleading hope in his voice tangible even over the clacking, shuddering momentum of the train and the buzz of conversation around them. "Or am I dreaming?"

Sirius slid his hand alongside Remus' on the seat between them, hooking his little finger over Remus'. "I'm real," he said with a soft smile. "This is real." He slipped his hand under Remus' and pressed something hard and circular against his palm. "Sorry I was late. I had to make sure I got everything I needed, everything I was owed."

Remus turned his hand and stared down at the gleaming pocket watch cupped in his hand. "For the oldest son," Sirius explained. "Handed down on the day he celebrates finding the love of his life." Sirius closed Remus' fingers around the watch then wrapped his own around the fisted hand and smiled. "This watch has seen a lot in its lifetime. I want to add some memories of my own. With you. Together."

Remus smiled back then, as the train screeched to a slow stop and bodies swarmed around them, he took advantage of the confusion and brushed his lips quickly over their joined hands. "Together,' he repeated, slotting their hands between their almost-touching thighs then settling back against the seat. He leaned towards Sirius, perhaps a little too close for proprietary. "We're real."

"No need for dreaming anymore," Sirius said quietly, and Remus' smile widened as the doors slid shut and the train bore them away.

fin.


End file.
